“Good morning,” she said, walking into the kitchen. She smiled at her daughter and went to Bowie’s side to give him a kiss. She lingered there, taking in his fresh shower scent, and then went to her daughter and greeted her, rubbing her hand over her back. Brystol was well adjusted and loving school.
“Morning, Mom. May I go to Jasmine’s after school? We have a project to work on for English.” Brystol checked her mom, and then her dad, for approval.
“How are you getting there?” Bowie asked.
“Walking—she only lives two blocks from school.”
He took the parental reins. “What time do you want me to pick you up?”
“Five would be good. It won’t take us long. But I can stay later if you’re not finished with work.”
“I’ll be there at five.” He turned toward the sink, emptied his mug, and rinsed it with water. “Are you ready to go in ten?” he asked Brystol. “Do you have plans for the football game tonight?”
Brystol approached the sink with her bowl; he took it from her and rinsed it out. “I’ll be ready. And yes, I thought we were going together? Although maybe you won’t mind if I sit with my friends, Dad?”
“Of course not.”
She smiled at him before she went to her room to finish getting ready, with Luke hot on her heels. Each time Brystol referred to Bowie as “Dad,” it made Brooklyn’s heart skip a beat. The first time he had heard it, he had cried in her arms for hours, thanking her for making him a father. From that point on he had started introducing Brystol as his daughter. He had hesitated, telling Brooklyn he wanted to wait until Brystol was okay with everything, and now he sought out any excuse to use the word daughter in a conversation. They had bonded right before Brooklyn’s eyes, and she couldn’t be happier.
He had been looking forward to the homecoming game for weeks and was excited that Brystol wanted him to go. He wouldn’t care if she ran off to sit with her friends; he just wanted to be there with her.
“Where are you working today?” Brooklyn asked before Bowie left the room.
He walked over to her and pulled her into his arms. “I’m all over town. I’m bidding on a job downtown, and I need to check on the reno for the Goldbergs’ house. Going to go to lunch with Grady.” He, too, had been trying to rebuild his friendship with Grady. It was a process for all, but one that was definitely coming along.
“Do you need my help at the Goldbergs’?”
He shook his head. “The designer on the job is top notch and has laid out every detail for us to follow. I think I’m okay on this one.” They both smiled. While Brooklyn was busy with the inn, she hadn’t given up on her career, because Bowie had found a way for her to do both. She was a consultant for his company, helping him at night with designs. It was the best of both worlds—although she missed being knee deep in the process and watching a transformation take place, she also loved working at the inn. The place was going to be her daughter’s legacy, and she wanted to make sure the business was sustainable in the future. If their calendar was any indication, Brystol wasn’t going to have any issues when she took over.
“Well, you know where to find me,” she said.
“That I do.” He leaned down and kissed her until they heard Brystol thumping her way down the stairs.
Later that evening, while Bowie took Brystol to the football game, Simone, Monroe, Mila, and Brooklyn stood in the center of the ballroom and stared at the walls and ceiling. Brooklyn had drawn plans of what she wanted the room to look like, but bringing her ideas to life was another challenge.
“Remember when we had every school dance here?” Mila said, sipping her mocha-java-latte double shot of something that didn’t make sense to anyone but her.
“The light from the lighthouse would always spotlight us when we were dancing,” Monroe added.
“I think it’s very special that you’re hosting homecoming, Brooklyn. All of the parents dropping their children off tomorrow night will be able to reminisce,” Simone said proudly. For weeks, Brooklyn had had her seek out old photos from previous homecomings. The photos were now attached to boards, categorized by years. It was Brooklyn’s way of bringing the inn back to its former self.
“I think Carly would approve.” Brooklyn leaned into Simone a little and gave her a smile. She was very happy that Simone had stayed on as staff. The inn ran smoothly, and Brooklyn would be lost without her. “Okay,” she said, clapping her hands together. “These lights aren’t going to hang themselves, and these balloons aren’t going to get filled still sitting in their bags. Let’s do this, ladies!”